Plant A Seed, Watch It Grow
by taken with you
Summary: Jack never had a great relationship with his father. He was going to make damn sure the same thing didn't happen between him and his own son. Even if things were falling apart. AU. JSKA.
1. Chapter 1

_What can I say? I was bored._

---

A small beast slammed its powerful tiny fists onto the ground as it crawled through the field, watching the floor vibrate dangerously. The thunderous sound emitted from each arm as it carried the beast forward was muffled by the soft white carpet. Hovering on its belly, the beast concentrated on the best way to navigate into the dangerous territory that lay only mere inches away.

The beast's eyes narrowed in determination as it surveyed its prey, lying helplessly on top of its niche, its nest,_ its home_.

As the beast inched closer, its fierce eyes danced with mirth as it watched its prey's delicious body rise and fall peacefully. _Oh poor prey_, thought the beast, the predator, _So innocent… so unknowing. So terribly helpless._

The beast's shoulders shifted readily as it crouched even lower, moving into an attacking position, ready to lunge forward before—

"Don't even think about it," a lazy voice drawled out from the supposed niche.

The beast yelped in response to the sudden voice, clearly shocked as it quickly jumped up and ran behind the opened door for protection.

"Christopher," the voice said warningly. It belonged to a tall man with cropped brown hair and matching brown eyes. He was clad in black shorts and a fitted grey shirt that didn't hide a well-toned torso. Sprawled all over the king-size bed, he stared knowingly at his bedroom door. "Christopher," the man said again after hearing a little shuffle and a whimper drift into the room.

Several minutes had passed before a tiny head covered with wild, roguish brown hair poked its way out from behind the door. A tiny head that belonged to a frightened and guilty looking little boy. "Hi," he squeaked.

The man gave the child a mock-stern look, hiding a smile. "Come over here," he said, gesturing towards his bed.

The little boy named Christopher shook his head violently, his little hands grasping tightly around the doorknob and his messy hair looking even more primitive.

"Chris Shephard, get in this room _now_," the man said wearily, but with such a finality in his voice that no one would dare deny his orders.

The child reluctantly let go of the doorknob he was clinging on to and slowly, hesitantly, walked into the room. His little feet shuffled towards the bed as he wrung his hands together and looked at the floor.

"Hey," the man said softly to the child. "Christopher, look at me."

The little boy did, his brown eyes looking identical to the pair he stared into.

"What are you doing in daddy's bedroom?" the man asked carefully.

"N-Nothing," Christopher mumbled, looking slightly apprehensive.

The man raised his eyebrows, knowing when his child was lying. "Are you sure about that?" he asked.

The little boy shook his head shamefully. "I was just, I was just—" Christopher began, stumbling over his words. "I was a lion!" he exploded, as if to explain.

The man blinked, not pleased by the way his son was planning on waking him.

Christopher's eyes grew wide as he went into explanation. "I couldn't control it! It was like my brain got _puh-zest_ and walked me to your room. Like something funny went insides my ears and told me to wake you up so we can hurry and eat and then hurry and go to my first day of school!"

Ah, school. Now everything made sense. This was an intrusion brought on by the impatience of a four year old boy.

The man looked very amused, despite the obvious exhaustion plastered on his face. He knew his son didn't mean to bother him so early in the morning, when he had just arrived from work not even two hours ago.

"Aren't we creative?" he muttered to himself, shifting around in bed.

He glanced at the clock and shook his head at the anxious child and sighed.

After a quick moment, he grabbed the boy between the arms and lifted him off the ground, settling him onto the empty space next to him. He shut his eyes for a second and slowly opened them. "It's four thirty in the morning," the man groaned. "School doesn't start until nine. And you know your dad needs to sleep."

Christopher looked guilty again, hiding his face into his father's pillow. "I was a lion…" he mumbled, firmly sticking to his story. "And my tummy was hungry… and lion's don't like to be hungry."

Sighing once more, the man flung the covers off the bed before rubbing his hands over his face.

Christopher stared curiously at him.

The man glimpsed over at the child with a small, defeated smile. "Fine. You win."

Christopher squealed in delight as his father picked him up with one arm and tousled his hair, carrying him out the room as he said, "Since we're already up, why don't we go tame this mane of yours and get some breakfast?"

---

"Hey Jack," a voice awkwardly said through the machine. "It's me… Sarah."

Jack tensed as he poured himself some coffee, mildly aware that his son was flinging lucky charms at him, visibly trying to get his attention. He continued to listen to the answering machine.

"I know it's really late… or well, early, I guess… but I just wanted to remind you that I'll be picking Christopher up for his first day of school. I'll be there around eight thirty…" The woman's voice seemed strained. "Anyway… that's all… Okay. B-Bye Jack."

Jack winced at the message. Did she have to sound so uncomfortable? His jaw clenched before he took a long sip of his coffee. Just because they aren't together anymore doesn't mean she has to act like they're strangers, right? Jack moodily leaned over the kitchen counter, deep in thought.

Frustrated, Christopher dropped his spoon from a high distance, making it clang loudly.

Finally, Jack turned around with an annoyed expression. "What?" he asked, walking over towards the table at which Christopher sat; on a booster seat, no less.

Christopher gave Jack an exaggerated sigh. "I said I want a _big_ spoon," he complained, glaring at his father. He shoved his current spoon, which was decorated with racecars, towards Jack.

Jack rolled his eyes into his cup. "What's wrong with the spoon you're using now?"

Christopher scrunched up his face and looked at his father as if he were stupid. "That's a _baby's_ spoon. I'm not a baby," he declared confidently. His voice was awfully baby like.

Jack chuckled. "Oh really?" he said, shoving the spoon back. "I don't know… I don't think you're big enough to use a normal spoon."

Christopher made a small noise before throwing his racecar spoon on the floor.

"Hey," Jack said warningly before he was interrupted.

"I am big enough!" Christopher protested. "Today's my first day of school! Only big boys go to school. That's what you said! So I want a_ big_ spoon!"

Jack sighed inwardly. He _did_ tell Chris that only big boys go to school. But then, that was a year ago, when Christopher asked him where all his older friends in the playground were going. Goodness, this kid's memory was too good.

"Listen," Jack coaxed, "If you pick up your utensil right now and apologize for your behavior, then maybe I'll give you one of my spoons."

Immediately, Christopher complied, yelling an apology as he ran his dirty spoon towards the sink.

As promised, Jack gave him what the child wanted, and laughed loudly when he saw that his son was struggling.

Christopher was not happy with his father's expression.

Just as Jack was about to say something, Christopher whiningly said, "At least I'm trying."

Jack had to smile at that. He wondered if his son would be a good student.

If Christopher tried as hard at everything as he was on trying to master using a tablespoon, then the apple definitely didn't fall far from the tree. Jack had always been known to be a hard worker, making him quite the successful spinal surgeon.

He ignored the bitter thought that nibbled away at the back of his head.

The one that said if Christopher did indeed take on Jack's quality to try his best at everything… but _failed_… well then… Christopher would be a lot more like his father that he knew.

Jack shook his head, telling himself to stop being stupid. Christopher would have a better life. Better relationships. There would never be a time where Jack would let Christopher feel like a failure; a disappointment. This was going to be different. Jack was going to make sure of that.

Trying to distract himself from his thoughts, Jack grabbed Christopher's spoon and set it down on the table. "Hey, how about we get ready for school?" he suggested.

Christopher's face brightened. "You mean like how you get ready for work?" he said excitedly.

Jack chuckled. "Something like that," he said as he pulled Christopher off his seat and followed the running child towards his colorful room.

"I'm gon' pick my own clothes," Christopher said proudly, on his knees and rummaging through his little closet.

Jack laughed, watching from the doorway. "If you insist…" After several minutes of watching his son, Jack looked at his watch. He needed to get cleaned up and ready soon if Sarah was going to be there early. Jack ran a hand over his chin. Yup. He needed to shave, too. "Well, since you seem to be doing so well by yourself… Daddy's going to go to his room to change, okay? Call me if you need me."

Christopher didn't bother answering him as he continued to dig through his clothes, pulling out random articles of clothing and throwing them on the floor.

Jack released another chuckle and shook his head as he walked into his own bedroom.

After a quick shower and shave, Jack was buttoning up his white, crisp dress shirt in front of his closet mirror before he heard a familiar shuffle into the room. He looked down and laughed at the sight. "What are you wearing?" he said, bending down and picking his son up. He placed him on top of the low dresser that connected to his closet, enabling both boys to stare into the mirror.

Little Christopher looked just like his father, clad in small black slacks and a white dress shirt.

"I thought this is what people wears when they have to go somewhere _importint_…" Christopher said with a cock to his head.

Jack could only grin appreciatively. "Wanted to look like your old man, huh?"

Christopher didn't say anything. Instead, he turned back to the mirror and studied himself. Peering over at this father, Christopher mimicked Jack's movements as he buttoned his cuffs, lifting one arm in the air and fiddling with the little button.

He stopped when he noticed Jack staring at himself in the mirror.

Christopher copied his father and looked into the mirror as well. Hm… Something was missing… He looked back at Jack, who was now tucking a tie neatly under the collar of his shirt.

Christopher didn't have to say anything before he felt something tugging around his neck.

Jack grinned again, opening his mouth to say something when the doorbell rang. Looking at his watch told him who it was, and he sighed deeply.

Pulling the mesmerized son away from the mirror, he dropped Christopher back at the table and hesitantly went to the door. Bracing himself, and taking a deep breath, Jack opened the door.

A beautiful young blonde stood before him. She was wearing a hugging white blouse and a gray pencil skirt; very professional. _Very Sarah_, Jack sulkily remarked in his head. Her golden yellow locks were tied neatly into a loose bun, and her bright hazel eyes looked terrified to meet his.

Jack's own brown eyes darkened as he forced a smile. "Sarah," he said stiffly.

Sarah mirrored his expression before clearing her throat. "Jack."

There was an awkward silence before Jack came to his senses and moved out of the doorway, inviting her in. She hesitantly stepped into the familiar house and walked easily towards the kitchen.

Yes, she knew the place well.

All stiffness released from her body as she spotted the young boy glaring dangerously at his spoon. She smiled brightly at her son. "Topher, baby, what are you doing?" She asked, amusement clear in her voice as she approached him.

Christopher looked over at the new voice and his eyes lit up. "Mommy!" he exclaimed as he jumped off his booster seat and enveloped his mother in a tight hug. "I'm starting school today! I'm starting school today!" he said excitedly as he pulled away from her strong embrace.

Sarah laughed. "I know you are, baby," she said in the same excited tone. "You're going with me, silly," she told him with an affectionate smile.

"I am?" The little boy looked surprised. He glanced over at his father, who suddenly appeared out of nowhere. He looked at him questioningly.

Jack coughed and nodded his head. "Um, yeah. Since Mommy works there… she's going to take you to school today," he explained hastily. He looked awkwardly at Sarah for a moment. "I have something very important to do this morning," he told the child regretfully, cringing inside when the child's shoulder's dropped.

"So you're not going to be there for my first day?"

Jack inhaled sharply, feeling Sarah's unsurprised gaze. Of course she's going to think if Jack didn't have any time for her, surely he wasn't going to have any time for his son. Jack's jaw clenched. "N-No," he finally said, walking over to Christopher and falling to his knees. He looked directly at the child whose lips were trembling. "I'm afraid I won't be there this morning. But I'll be there after school to pick you up, okay?"

Christopher didn't say anything. Instead, he broke eye contact with his father, feeling disappointed.

Jack sighed loudly before grabbing both of Christopher's tiny hands. "Hey," he said quietly. Looking up at the table, Jack grabbed Christopher's new spoon. He wrapped the little palm around it. "I'm sorry I can't be there for you today on your big day," Jack said sincerely. "But you're a big boy now, remember?" he gestured to the spoon. "You don't need me _all_ day, now, do you? A big boy can take care of himself. They're not afraid of anything, right?"

Christopher slowly nodded his head, staring at the floor.

Jack lifted the child's chin upwards. "If you get scared, just remember this spoon, okay? And remember that I'll be seeing you soon, this afternoon," he promised.

Christopher flipped the spoon several times in his hand, as if to inspect its magic.

Jack smiled. "That's right. You used this spoon all by yourself. And only a real big boy could do that."

Christopher finally looked up and stared at his father, a big goofy grin on his face. "Okay," he said, puffing out his chest.

Sarah pursed her lips as she watched Jack hug his son tightly and kiss him on the forehead. She grabbed Christopher's hand once he reached her. "C'mon Topher, let's go!"

She glanced at Jack, who continued to stare regretfully at his son. She cleared her throat, and Jack's eyes met hers. "You're picking him up at three thirty, right?"

Jack swallowed before nodding his head. "Yeah… three thirty," he repeated. There was a brief silence. "Do you want me to drop him off at your place around dinnertime? Or…" he trailed off, suddenly hating everything about his life.

"Yeah. Dinnertime sounds good," Sarah whispered, walking backwards slowly as her son tugged on her hand.

"You can have him back on Friday…" Jack heard her say before hearing the door slam shut.

"Right," Jack said to himself with a strained voice. He watched through the kitchen window as his ex-wife and son walked hand in hand towards a shiny, white car. It didn't go unnoticed how there was another man sitting in the driver's seat.

Jack grimaced and glanced at the calendar with a sigh. It was only Monday. Great. It was going to be a _long_ week.

---

_Mm. Next chapter: Jack meets Christopher's new teacher… Continue?_


	2. Chapter 2

_Boy, do I really enjoy reviews. Thank you so much! I really appreciate them! You guys are the reason I write. Since this story got some positive feedback, I've officially decided to continue… hence this Author's Note. Haha! Anyway, the idea came to me a few weeks back after reading several stories about Jack and his _daughter_. I figured, why not a son? Although, I can see the definite appeal to an adorable little girl who carries around a stuffed animal everywhere and responds to pet names such as 'pumpkin' and 'princess.'_

_And to Boo2ubam, to be honest, it took me a while to figure out you were talking about another _Lost_ story! Haha! At first, I thought you were talking about an actual book or something… but then after searching the title, I realized what you meant. I'm sorry! I've never read it (I'm not sure why, but I tend to stay away from anything involving Aaron unless it's canon). So to that author, I sincerely apologize if things appear similar. It wasn't my intention. They're purely coincidental._

_Just to clarify, this story is going to focus on the relationship between Jack and his son, with the much needed help from Kate. Kate's classroom is going to be a very busy environment… for both kids and grownups ;) Hahaha! Oh, and JSKA stands for "Jack Shephard Kate Austen." (The combining of names to represent a couple has been mocked so much I've decided against using it. I came to this conclusion years ago, so it's got nothing to do with _Lost_ or hating the name 'Jate.' I'm okay with it. I just prefer not to use it due to past circumstances!) I'm sorry for the confusion! But I should definitely put Sawyer in here, hm? Hahaha I'm kidding. I haven't decided yet. Anyway, I'll shut up now. Sorry for rambling. Enjoy!_

_(Sigh, I'm not even going to dignify the sad fact that I don't own _Lost_ with a disclaimer. It would sadden me to do so.)_

---

"What is he saying?" A small child of about three and a half feet questioned innocently as he pointed at a poster in front of him.

"Hm?" A young brunette replied absentmindedly from her desk, scribbling away on a notepad.

"This cat," the child said again, looking towards the woman. "What's he saying?"

The brunette looked up towards the baby voice, slightly startled and finally realizing there was a child addressing her. Glancing at her watch, she stood up from her seat and walked past all the little desks and over towards the boy. "What are you still doing here, Christopher?" She asked softly before crouching down to meet his face. She remembered his name well because he was the only child dressed up for school. She smiled warmly at the notion. "School got out ten minutes ago. Your parents didn't show up yet?"

Christopher turned to her, his messy hair plastered against his forehead, and shook his head. He looked at the poster again and touched it, asking again what it was saying.

Maybe it was just the young woman… but was this kid avoiding her question? She looked over to where Christopher was staring.

The poster depicted many colorful words such as "Awesome!" and "Wow!" underneath a picture of a dog getting an A+ on its paper and a cat declaring "Hot Dog!" The bold title read "A hundred different ways to say 'Good Job!'"

The brunette smiled gently as she pulled the child's sticky fingers from the laminated picture. "He's saying 'Hot Dog!'" she explained. "It means 'Good job!'"

Christopher scrunched up his face. "I thought a hot dog was a food."

The woman laughed at his adorable expression. "It is," she said calmly. "But it's also a way to say congratulations."

"Why?" Christopher asked.

The brunette sighed, mentally preparing herself for the fresh endless why's that would appear this school year. "I'm not sure," she said honestly. "But when I find out, I'll make sure you're the first person I tell, okay?"

Christopher considered this for a moment before nodding his head and staring back at the picture.

The brunette studied the boy for a moment before grabbing his hand. "Christopher," she said softly, trying to get his attention. "Where are your parents?"

Christopher shrugged his tiny shoulders, avoiding her face.

"Did your mommy or daddy tell you they were going to pick you up?" The woman asked, thinking maybe they arranged for someone else, like a baby sitter, to come.

Christopher nodded his head. "My daddy is coming," he mumbled to his teacher.

The young woman frowned and looked at her watch again. It was three fifty now. Where was this child's father? She looked out the window for any cars that could be pulling up. Seeing none, she looked at the boy again. He looked kind of… dejected. Since when did children have the ability to look that way?

"Listen," the woman said brightly, standing up and pulling the child into her arms. "Why don't we play a game while we wait for your daddy?"

The child's big grin was well worth the suggestion.

---

"Dr. Shephard?"

No answer.

"Dr. Shephard?" the voice called again.

"_What?_" Jack snapped, turning his head towards the voice. It was a nurse. And she looked terrified.

"S-Sarah's not picking up her phone. And we can't reach your mother," the nurse said immediately, despite her nervous appearance. She's heard of Jack's short fuse. Everyone at the hospital has.

Jack's glare deepened as he let out a shaky breath. "Dammit," he said through clenched teeth, trying to concentrate on the oozing wound of his ER patient. Doctors and nurses were flying past behind him, trying to maintain control of the room as four other patients groaned in pain or lay silently, inches away from death. "Dammit, dammit, dammit," he continued to mutter, not daring to look at the clock.

After quickly and deftly closing up his patient, he rushed towards the next gurney. As he did, he gave in to the ticking clock's demand and looked down at his watch. "Dammit!" he yelled again, inwardly cringing. It was almost four and he couldn't get a hold of Sarah. What on earth must his son be thinking? Would they even let him stay in the classroom? And where the hell was Sarah? She worked at the school for Christ's sake!

Time was not Jack's friend as his patient's pulse began to drop.

"No," he muttered, looking up from his watch and quickly jumping into action. "No, no, no," he repeated desperately. "You can't die on me," he said, trying to stop the patient's heart from plummeting. _Goddamn it!_ Jack thought. _Why now? Why at the exact time he was about to leave to go pick his son up?_

Jack was finding it hard to concentrate, feeling his priorities blend together and grow foggy. This feeling had only started recently. More specifically, when Sarah had left him.

Now it seemed Jack couldn't control where his responsibilities lay. He felt as if he was just being strung along by life's cruel hands, unable to stop his world from crumbling beneath him as he was given the same stupid choices every single day; forced to make the same stupid decisions each time.

His son, or his dying patients? His son, or his father's approval? His son, or—

"Jack," a strict voice said from behind.

"_Not now,_" Jack yelled over his shoulder as he put pressure on his patient's gushing wound. "I need some more help over here!" He yelled urgently towards a nurse.

"Jack," the voice said again, now directly above the surgeon's shoulder.

For a second, Jack tensed as he inhaled the familiar scent of whiskey and cigars; the familiar scent that could only belong to one person: his father, Christian Shephard. He ignored it as he tried to stabilize his patient. He was interrupted when pale, rough hands simultaneously grabbed Jack's scalpel and pulled him away from the emergency bed.

"As Chief of Surgery, I order you to stop," the older gentleman named Christian said.

"But—"

"Go pick up your son, Jack," Christian said sternly.

"I only need one more min—"

"_Jack,_" Christian warned, his voice cool and clipped. "Don't argue with me. Go pick up Christopher. Now."

Jack opened his mouth to argue before he caught his father's expression. His icy blue eyes were protruding as they darkened with malice. "Go now while I _fix_ this mess," Christian stated slowly.

Jack narrowed his eyes before ripping his mask off and flinging it at his father. "I hope your hands aren't too shaky," he spit out as he stalked out of the room.

He didn't hear the scalpel fall to the floor.

---

There was loud clapping and hooting as little Christopher finally made the bean bag into the small hoop that hung on the wall at the back of the room. He and the young woman were in the "play" part of the classroom.

"Yay!" the brunette cried happily. "You did it!" she yelled with exaggerated vigor.

Christopher beamed at his teacher and padded on towards her.

The brunette raised her palm out in a high-five and laughed when the child's strongest attempt hit her hand with a little 'thwap.'

"Hot dog!" she exclaimed, her brilliant green eyes twinkling as she stared at the little boy. He was awfully cut; even cuter as she got to know him better.

Christopher's face scrunched up again at the brunette's joke. But he giggled anyway, his smile still in place.

The brunette was struck by a thought before she grabbed the child's hand and dragged him towards her desk. After a moment of shuffling in her drawers, she pulled out a strip of golden stars. She smirked inwardly when the child gasped.

Christopher's eyes opened in awe as he observed the brunette pull the big sticker off the paper, his eyes following the shiny token as she moved her hands. He held his breath when the brunette's fingers hovered over his swelling chest. He looked questioningly at her, nearly anxious to have the shiny reward on his shirt.

Giving Christopher a mysterious smile, she leaned in close to him and lowered her voice, as if to tell a secret. "Now," she started quietly. "While I think you deserve this great, big star… I can only give it to you under one condition."

"What?" he asked desperately, squirming in his shoes.

"You can't tell anyone you got it from me, okay?" the brunette said carefully. "Or else everyone will want one," she explained.

Christopher nodded his head quickly, solemnly swearing he'd keep it a secret.

"Good," the woman said with a grin. As she placed the magnificent sticker on the little boy's crisp shirt, she heard loud, running footsteps out in the distance.

Both heads turned towards the door as the footsteps approached thunderously.

Suddenly, a tall man emerged into the room, huffing and puffing as he did. "Is my," Jack started, breathing hard and looking around the room. "Is my son here?"

The brunette stood to her full height and studied the man with an inquiring gaze. _So this was the father, _She thought to herself. _The famous spinal surgeon I've heard so much about._ Behind her, Christopher poked his head out from his teacher's legs.

Relief flooded through Jack's eyes as he met Christopher's gawk. "Hey," he said, still out of breath.

Christopher immediately ran to his father. "You finally made it!" he yelled as he jumped into his father's embrace.

"Yeah," Jack said, staring seriously at his son. "I finally made it."

They stared at each other momentarily before Christopher looked away, realizing why his father was late. It was always the same reason. Even if the kid was only four, it happened so often that the child had to notice by now, whether he fully understood it or not.

But today, on his first day of school, Christopher had hoped that maybe, _just maybe_, his father might have something better than the same, pitiful excuse.

It was clear that he did not. And so, as mentioned before, Christopher looked away.

Jack's face fell.

"I am so, _so_ sorry, Chris," the man said, trying to hold his voice. He couldn't exactly explain to his son what was going on in his head. "I tried to get here as soon as I could. Something happened at the hospital…" he explained pathetically. There was always something happening at the hospital.

Christopher only nodded his head into Jack's shoulder.

"Chris," Jack said softly to his son. "Look at me," he pleaded.

Christopher abruptly lifted his head and pointed towards the woman Jack seemingly had forgotten. "Meet my teacher!" he said, sounding a bit too excited even for himself. He struggled out of his father's grasp and ran to his teacher and grabbed her hand. "This is Miss Austen!" He pulled her towards his father.

Jack did a double-take. Though he saw her earlier, his mind had been too worried and muddled to notice the woman's appearance. And despite the fact that he knew his son was avoiding his apology by throwing this woman at him, he couldn't help but oblige and stare.

She was a few inches shorter than him, he noted, and had long, dark brown tresses that curled and tumbled over her elegant shoulders. Her defined collarbone was exposed, as she was dressed in a slouchy white shirt tucked under a forest green high-waist skirt that hugged her hips favorably.

But that's not what grabbed Jack's attention. What made him so fascinated with her was the fierce stare she was giving him, her startling green eyes narrowed and her lips slightly pursed. He noticed her grasp on Christopher tighten.

Jack swallowed hard and had to remind himself to breath. Slowly, and without breaking eye contact with the stunning woman, Jack pulled his son away and picked him up again. Settling Christopher in one arm, Jack opened his mouth to speak.

"Miss Austen teached me how to throw a overhand!" Christopher told his father happily, unaware of the staring match between the two adults.

Jack broke it and turned to his son. "Oh really?" he said lightly, looking back at the woman. Miss Austen. "Thank you," he said seriously. His voice was a little shaky. Maybe from trying to control his emotions. Maybe from bottling up his frustrations. Maybe from attempting to keep himself at an appropriate distance with the graciously beautiful woman. "Thank you very much for watching him and letting him wait here."

The woman only continued to look intently, clearly unhappy with the idea. It was as if she was so disappointed in him, she couldn't think of anything to say.

"I-I know what you're thinking," Jack began hesitantly. He swallowed again when he watched Miss Austen raise an eyebrow, looking unimpressed. "What kind of father leaves his child at school, right?" He chuckled bitterly when Miss Austen folded her arms, motioning for him to continue. "I was held up at work," he declared.

Miss Austen's eyebrows furrowed even lower. Now _that_ was enough of an incentive to say something. "I'm sorry Dr. Shephard, but with all due respect, leaving a child unattended because of _work_ is not a very legitimate—"

"It wasn't my choice," Jack argued, feeling a desperate need to explain his actions to her; to get her to understand. For some reason, he didn't want Christopher's teacher hating him. He's already had enough animosity.

"I tried getting out of there as soon as I could. I had my scheduled cleared at three so I could come and get him but—" Jack's voice broke, and he held the curious Christopher even tighter. "But there was an accident, and I was stuck in the ER, trying to fix— to save—" he stopped himself again, brushing away his stumbling thoughts.

He inhaled roughly, trying a different approach before he touched on anything too deep. "I couldn't get a hold of Christopher's mother," he said quietly, his brown eyes fighting to connect with the woman's translucent green ones. "I'm trying the best I can," he finally said, sounding defeated but resolute.

Miss Austen's tough demeanor broke, and her eyes filled with sorrow. She couldn't stay mad at this man for that long. He was too… he was too much like his son, she thought sadly. His son who, only moments before, held the same dejected face.

"I'm sorry," Miss Austen said at last. She gave him a sympathetic smile. "I shouldn't have been so hard on you," she laughed slightly at her words. "I guess I just didn't take into account the hectic life of a Doctor."

Jack returned her smile, his brown eyes relaxing as they filled with warmth. _Phew_.

"Especially a renowned one like you," Miss Austen continued in a joking manner.

As soon as the warmth settled in Jack's eyes, it was gone at the woman's attempted joke.

Miss Austen frowned, feeling the shift in his mood. "You don't like being a famous spinal surgeon…?"

Jack clenched his jaw. "I'm not a—"

"They call you a 'miracle worker,'" she interrupted pointedly.

"Do you always ask people _you've just met_ these kinds of questions?" Jack retorted stiffly.

Miss Austen blushed and looked down quickly, a guilty smile erupting from her lips. She silently berated herself, reminding herself to quit sticking her foot in her mouth.

The awkward silence grew heavier.

Running a hand through her thick, wavy locks, the brunette released another smile. It seemed it was the only thing she could offer him. "I'm sorry," she said again before sighing. She held up her right hand. "Let's start over," she amended, shooting the tall, dark man a meaningful look. "I'm Kate."

Jack's eyes flickered towards her outstretched hand and back to her face before he hesitantly reached out his own larger hand. He didn't blush at the dangerous spark of electricity, though his stomach was doing all kinds of wild somersaults.

He sucked in a quick breath. "Jack. Jack Shephard."

---

R&R? :(?


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you SO MUCH for the reviews! I thrive on them! This is for you guys!_

---

"So…" Jack began awkwardly, staring into his review mirror at Christopher, who was sitting in his car seat. "How was school?"

Christopher looked out his window for a moment, as if he didn't hear the question, before speaking. "It was fun."

The silence deepened.

"That's all you're gonna give me, huh?" Jack asked sadly, looking back at the road.

Christopher squeezed his stuffed lion tight as he released a secretive smile. "I gots a gold star," he boasted.

Jack looked back at the review mirror again, smiling as he watched his son puff out his chest proudly. He suddenly noticed how eager Christopher looked to share his stories. "You did?" he asked, humoring the child. "That's great! Did… Miss Austen give that to you?" He cursed himself when his voice cracked at the mention of her name.

Christopher didn't seem to notice.

"Yup!" The child said, oblivious to his father's inner turmoil. With the intent of rattling off all the trivial things he did today, Christopher opened his mouth to speak before something dawned on him. His eyes grew wide and his hand flew to his mouth. He looked as if he were about to panic.

"What's wrong?" Jack asked hurriedly in concern, turning his head back to look at the child. "Chris-"

"I wasn't s'pose to tell you!" Christopher yelled, squirming in his seat and pushing into his seatbelt.

"What?"

"Where I gots the gold star. I wasn't s'pose to tell you!" Christopher groaned.

Jack's shoulders relaxed and he turned his head back to the road, swerving a little to avoid the big truck in front of him. "God…" he muttered, inhaling a scoff. "Is that all? You scared me."

"You can't tell anyone!" Christopher said loudly with a beseeching expression, clutching his lion. "I promised Miss Austen I wouldn't tells anyone!"

Jack gave him a reassuring smile. "It's okay, Chris. I won't tell her you told me. I promise."

But Christopher was still cringing. "You can't tell," he mumbled again in his baby voice. "I didn't mean to break my promise…"

"It's okay. Don't worry about it, alright?" Jack tried, soothing the child's conscience.

There was a short silence before Jack saw his son nod his head in the review mirror. The child grasped his lion even tighter as an ashamed expression erupted onto his face.

Jack inwardly chuckled. Children are so innocent. "Christopher," he said, grabbing the child's attention. "Don't beat yourself up too much about it, okay? I think she just meant for you to not tell the other kids is all. As long as you don't do it again, I'm sure Miss Austen won't mind."

Christopher looked doubtful, but nodded his head anyway.

After a few moments of silence, Jack attempted to change the subject, trying to coax his son into talking again like he had wanted to earlier. "So what else happened at school today?"

"Wells…" Christopher began, looking back out the window. "Miss Austen was very nice. She's funny. She let me play with her toys."

Jack swallowed a smile before nodding his head as he turned on his blinker. "Yeah," he said slowly. "Yeah she seemed nice."

Christopher didn't see his father redden. "Whens you didn't came…" Christopher started, trailing off as he looked down at the car floor. His messy hair fumbled into his eyes, hiding his hurt expression. "Whens you didn't came," he repeated, "She teached me a overhand."

Jack swallowed hard, but it was nowhere near as strained as the swallow into silence was. He didn't know what to say, glancing at his child's averted gaze. The car ride was awkward again, and by the time Jack came up with anything else to ask to break the mood, they had just pulled up towards a small, blue house. He turned the ignition off and sighed, rubbing his hands over his eyes before turning his body towards his son.

Christopher looked up at the movement, and they stared at each other for a long time. Jack did it because he knew his son was still sad about him, and couldn't really articulate much to amend his excuse.

But Christopher, a four year old, did it because he didn't know what else to do. If his daddy stared, then he'd stare back too… no matter how many questions and thoughts were whirling in his head.

"I'm sorry," Jack finally said.

The little boy simply nodded his head, as if to say he understood.

Knowing that was all he was going to get, Jack slammed his door shut and went to the side to help his son out. He held his hand as he walked him towards the front door, his body tensing and his eyebrows furrowing down.

After ringing the doorbell several times, Sarah appeared at the door.

"Christopher!" She squealed, picking him up and twirling him around into the house. "How was your first day of school?!" she asked excitedly.

But before Christopher could answer, Jack walked in and placed a hand on Sarah's shoulder. "We need to talk," he said quietly.

Sarah's eyes locked with his before she put the child down. Looking at the kid's quizzical stare, she bent over and smiled reassuringly at him. "Topher, baby, why don't you go run to your room and put your stuff away?" she suggested gently. "I'll be here talking to Daddy. And when you get back, you can tell me all about your big day, okay?"

Christopher grinned and nodded his head. He looked at his father, who tousled his hair, before running off towards the hall and into his room.

After hearing the bedroom door shut, all smiling faces were dropped. No more pleasantries. No more faking it for the kid.

"Where were you?" Jack asked accusingly. "I've was trying to get a hold of you all day."

Sarah stood up and bit back a grimace, pushing past the man's broad chest. "Don't talk to me like that," she said, returning his glare.

Jack looked perplexed. "Like what?"

"Like I belong to you," she said icily, reaching the kitchen.

Jack gritted his teeth. "I didn't mean to sound possessive, _Sarah_, but I would like to know where the hell you were at three thirty today."

Sarah looked at him like he was crazy. "What's it to you? It doesn't matter. What I do during my time is none of your concern."

Jack stalked over to where she was, leaning his forearms against the island. "It _is_ my concern when it involves my son."

"What?" Sarah asked, clearly confused. "What are you talking about? I thought we discussed this. _You_ were going to pick him up after school since I drove him this morning. And since you told me that _you_ wanted a couple of hours with him before he had to come back to me for the rest of the week."

Jack's accusing eyes faltered a bit. He knew she was right. But that didn't change the fact that she wasn't available in case of an emergency. Like the emergency today. He sighed, dreading what was coming up. His admittance to another failure. A failure to a simple task: Pick your son up on time. "Right, that was the plan…" He said uneasily. "But I really needed you at three thirty. And no one could get a hold of you…"

"Why did you need me?"

Jack squeezed his eyes tight. "Just tell me where you were."

Sarah cocked an eyebrow. "Not that it's any of your business… But I had an early yoga class…" she said, narrowing her eyes. "Why did you need to contact me so badly…?" she trailed off.

Her eyes opened wide when it hit her. She looked horrified. "You didn't pick him up on time?!" she yelled, hitting the tall man in the chest with her fist. "_Jack,_" she said angrily. "What happened? What did he do? Did his teacher let him stay in the classroom? Is that were you ended up finding him? What time did you even get there? _Jack_-" she spit out his name again before taking a breath and willing herself to calm down. Her child was left alone at school?! She should have never taken that yoga class… even if it was convenient, seeing how she has a prep period every Monday and Wednesday. "No. Don't answer that. Forget that. Answer me this: That was your only job. _Your only job._ That's it. Just to pick him up on time. Simple. And you couldn't even do that?"

Jack's glare deepened. "Don't rub it in my face. I'm very aware of my _only_ responsibility," he said, a bit sarcastically. "But there was a huge accident at-"

"The hospital," Sarah cut in flatly. "Right. I know." She sighed, rubbing her fingers against her forehead. She glanced at the clock that hung over the kitchen sink.

"Sarah-" Jack tried before he was interrupted again.

"It's almost dinnertime, Jack," the blonde suddenly said, looking away from the deflated man. "_He_ will be here soon… and I need to make dinner." Her voice grew quiet. "You should leave."

Jack swallowed, not budging from his place at the island. "I want to meet him, Sarah."

"No."

"I'm not moving until I do."

"Jack."

"You won't even tell me his name!" Jack bellowed, unable to control his emotions any longer.

"Right!" Sarah yelled back. "And there's a reason for that!"

"I-"

"Are you fighting again?" An innocent voice asked from a distance.

Both adult's heads snapped towards the hallway, where a little boy stood clutching a stuffed lion.

Immediately, two guilty expressions consumed both faces.

"No, baby," Sarah said soothingly as she moved away from the tall man and towards the child. "We're not fighting. Daddy was just about to leave," she jerked her head back at Jack, "Weren't you, Daddy."

It was more of a statement than a question.

Jack bit back a remark and broke away from Sarah's subtle glare. He smiled sadly at Christopher. "Yeah," he choked out. He looked at Sarah again. His mouth was now a grim line. "I was just leaving."

---

Jack grumbled and muttered to himself darkly as he flung a box of cereal into his shopping cart.

Hearing the noise and wondering who was making such an obnoxious fuss, a young brunette turned around from the huge aisle of bread. She sucked in a deep breath as she noticed who it was.

The handsome doctor she had met a few days ago.

She smirked when she saw that he was glaring at the cereal shelves, cursing loudly as his eyes skimmed the rows. Something was obviously bothering him.

"Jack?"

Jack snapped his head towards the voice's direction. The anger flew from his face and his body tensed at the sight. "Kate," was all he managed.

"I would have never pegged you as a serial killer," Kate said with a small smile. Immediately, she cringed at her words and couldn't stop the severe blush that spread through her face. _I would have never pegged you as a serial killer? Oh God. He's going to think I'm an idiot!_

Jack snorted, but grinned when he saw her rosy cheeks deepen in blatant embarrassment. "Aren't you witty."

Kate ducked her head bashfully, trying to not meet his eyes. "I-I was going to ask if everything was okay… since you seem to be cursing at the groceries," she rambled, backing away. "But it appears I'm the one who needs serious help… so um, if you'll excuse me, I'm just going to go over there," she gestured to anywhere but him, "and die."

Jack let out a genuine chuckle and took a few steps towards her. She still refused to meet his gaze. "I expected you to be indignant," he said honestly, waiting for her reaction.

It worked. Kate looked up at him. Her furious blush was still intact. "Why do you say that?"

Jack's eyes were warm. "Because in the very short time I've met you, you just seemed like the type to fight for herself…"

Kate gave him a strange look. All that from a single meeting? "Well… Well yeah," she said hastily. "But…" she laughed lightly, looking away. "I don't think anyone could save themselves from _that_."

Jack chuckled again. "No… probably not."

They smiled at each other, suddenly very shy.

Jack had never felt such instant attraction. He inhaled when Kate cleared her throat.

"So… Um… are you okay?" she asked, looking truly concerned.

Jack's eyebrows furrowed. "Huh?"

Kate looked past his broad shoulders and gestured towards his cart. "You, er, seemed to be angry earlier."

"Oh," Jack said, looking back. "_That._" He looked embarrassed as he rubbed a hand over his short brown hair.

Kate noticed the flash of silver as he put his hand down.

"Uh, yeah. No, I'm okay." Jack laughed sheepishly. "I was just… annoyed is all. I guess I didn't realize I was taking it out on dietary goods."

Kate smiled at his embarrassment, thinking for a second at how adorable he was. She was reminded very strongly of Christopher.

But she couldn't stump the disappointment filling her stomach. Did she really just see what she thought she just saw? Well, she shouldn't be surprised.

He was a great catch. No, scratch that. An _amazing_ catch. Good-looking. Clearly athletic. A (famous) doctor, so he's obviously smart... Of course he'd be taken. She remembered his earnest attempts to explain his absence as to why he couldn't pick Christopher up in time a few days ago. Oh. Yeah. And he was a great, caring father. Alarms were going through her head. _Of course he married! He has a son! A son in my class! My student!_

Even if he _was_ divorced like she wrongly assumed he was, she couldn't date her student's father, right?

Right. It was unethical. But it didn't matter, now. He was a married man. Damn this rationality! Kate ignored her inner thoughts and tried to think back as to why she was even speaking to him now. She denied that it could have been the fact that she thought he was single. _It's because he looked bothered_, she told herself. She looked hesitant before opening her mouth. "Do you mind telling me what's bothering you?"

Jack quirked an eyebrow. "Um…"

"Just to help," Kate broke in quickly. "I mean, I know you don't really know me but…" she looked at him importantly, "I just want to help."

"Why?" Jack asked, not missing a beat. He was wondering why this woman was paying more attention to him than needed. He noticed that today her features were soft and unguarded, as opposed to the fighter stance she held a couple days ago. He decided he liked both looks equally.

Kate swallowed. "I-I don't know," she stammered, feeling a blush creep up again. "You just seem so frustrated is all."

He didn't miss the double meaning. He knew she was referring to their last meeting as well. He sighed, unable to keep himself from dragging her into his problems any longer. He couldn't help it… he wanted to know her more. And if that meant she had to get involved well… well, Jack certainly couldn't deny the fact that he liked how she was trying to help. He decided to let her in on something smaller than what he was actually mad about. Yeah, he wasn't going to mention Sarah. Or her stupid lover for that matter. He smiled briefly. A sad smile. "I, uh, haven't seen Christopher in a while," he said. "Which… isn't that uncommon," he admitted, looking slightly ashamed. "But… the last time we spoke, he wasn't very happy with me."

Kate could have melted at his concern for his son, but she just smiled awkwardly at him. "Yeah… yeah I saw that," she said, remembering their encounter from before.

Jack looked down.

"But you know," Kate said, resting a hand on his chest. He looked up at her touch. "He seems to be over it. He's really happy and energetic in class. And he told me he couldn't wait for Friday, because that's when his Daddy comes back."

Jack gulped. He didn't know if it was from the touching _thought_ of his son being excited to see him, or from the touching _hand_. Even if it was only on the shoulder. "Really? He said that?"

Kate nodded greatly. "Yeah he did. He talks about you all the time."

Jack grinned, making Kate's heart quicken. He should smile more often. "Can I ask you something personal?"

Jack laughed. "I think it's my turn to ask _you_ something."

Kate looked away, embarrassed yet again, but was surprise when he nudged her and said, "Sure, go ahead."

"Why does Christopher get to see you on Friday? Why not everyday…?"

Jack's smile faltered, not exactly expecting this. He looked uncomfortable. "Oh. Um. He lives with his mother…"

Kate looked back at his left hand, just to make sure. Her eyebrows knitted in confusion as she frowned "Are you… separated?"

Jack looked at the area she was staring at. Realization dawning on him as he quickly hid his hand from plain view.

Her eyes snapped back to his at the movement.

"Divorced," Jack bit out.

An awkward cloud decided to make its appearance.

"Having a hard time letting go?" She said at last before she could stop herself. She knew she was being rude, but she couldn't help it. She felt like she was being toyed with by this man. Why was he holding the appearance of a married man? No. Wrong question. Why was he _flirting_ with her if he was still hung over his ex-wife?

Jack looked taken aback. Now _there's_ the woman he met three days ago. The one who was so forward with her questions. "Excuse me?"

Since she was already in this far, she might as well go on with it. It being the dreaded declaration; the elephant that didn't need to be addressed. "You still wear your wedding ring."

Jack didn't like where the conversation was heading. His voice was stiff when he spoke. "Um yeah, I guess I do…" He looked back at his shopping cart. "Hey listen," he said, looking at the beautifully confused Kate. "I need to get back to my uh…"

Kate got the hint. She expected this. "Right. Your shopping." She laughed humorously, hurt evident in her eyes. She quickly hid it, opting for an indifferent attitude. "Sorry for bothering you."

"You didn't bother me," Jack said seriously.

Kate nodded her head, giving him a cheerful smile that didn't meet her green eyes. "Well, I'll let you go. I got my own stuff to attend to," she said, pointing at her own cart. She turned around, wondering what the hell just happened.

"Wait," Jack said, putting a hand on her back. It couldn't end like that. There's no way.

She half turned to show she was listening. She was very aware of his hand grazing her neck. Did he feel the explosions, too?

Jack opened his mouth and then closed it. Should he ask her out? Would that be too forward? He barely knew her. And he didn't do this that often… how would he even do it? It's been about a year since his divorce but… And how was he going to explain why he was still wearing his wedding ring? "Thanks," he finally said, cursing inwardly at his cowardice. "For say what you said earlier about Christopher… You didn't need to be… so nice," he finished lamely.

Kate smiled a little. "It's no big deal. Just reminding you of what you already know," she said, laughing a little. She looked at his hand that was still resting on her shoulder. Was it just her, or was it getting hot?

Jack was suddenly conscious that their bodies were very close. Dangerously close. He felt her inhale a shaky breath. Was she as attracted him as he was to her?

"Kate," he exhaled, mildly surprised he'd been holding his breath. "Would you…"

"Hm?"

Jack swallowed again, his fingers marveling in the tingly sensation that came from Kate's breath. He shouldn't do it. He can't. It would be entirely selfish to ask this poor woman out and to initiate her into a life of misery; a life of failures. He would disappoint her, he knew; let her down. And considering from the way she was driving him crazy with a single touch, he'd be disappointed too. But that's the thing… she was driving him crazy with a single touch.

Well… maybe just to satiate his sanity, he tried to justify.

No. No he can't do that to her. She was too… he didn't know what about her that he really adored, but there was something. Her beauty was above average, yes, but Jack wasn't that shallow to think it was that. Was it her demeanor?

Or was it that in just two brief meetings, she seemed to understand him? To know him?

Or maybe, it was simply because in the two times he had met her, he couldn't remember breathing properly. Couldn't remember how he became associated with her in the first place (his son). Couldn't remember some girl named Sarah.

He couldn't stop himself from blurting out his last single thought. "Would you like to have dinner with me?"

Kate's eyes met his with a wide grin. "I'd love to," she whispered, feeling all rationality fly out of her head. The rational thinking that reminded her that he was coming off a divorce, that he was a busy doctor who worked long hours, that his son was one of her pupils. Yeah, that stuff didn't matter.

Yup. Jack's selfishness was going to drag her to hell.


End file.
